Man, what a heart wrenching day, but at the same time its so uplifting. This was my third Kidd’s Kids day and it is so cool to see that even though our economy is not exactly at its highest people find ways to help out those who really need a lift. I won’t lie to you, it is tough to develop these friendships with families because you know that there is a huge potential of getting hurt if one happens to pass away. This was all too real for me this last trip after Cherry left us in December. I spent most of my time between the Delgado and the Peters so I did develop an attachment from those five days of hanging out. Losing Cherry felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice cold water on me, and seeing her family today brought that feeling back again because I could tell that after 10 months the pain was still very prominent in their mind. That just motivated us even more though because Cherry’s mom herself told me that Cherry talked about the trip everyday after coming home and how she wanted to bake cookies and sell them to help out Kidd’s Kids this year… that didn’t happen but hopefully next year we can have a Cherry bake sale to help her dream come true : )

On another note completely opposite of the emotions I just wrote about. I love my neighborhood. Why? Because there are some crazy a$$ people that live there. Yesterday after injuring my groin due to getting older and less flexible during my football game I decided to go grab some dinner at 7 eleven. Yeah, nothing beats some beef jerky, a Gatorade, and some skittles. As I walked in there… hold on let me re-phrase… As I limped in there and past the magazines I walked past a woman who may have been a man, but could have very well been a manly woman. This wom… I mean, this person looked at me limp by and said, “ohh, you just got googled! Nice,” she didn’t actually say google, she used a much more profanity based word. I just looked back and gave her the half smile. She then said, “Yeah, I can tell, you are all sweaty and your hair is all messed up. I need to get googled bad. You are lucky.” I was wearing gym clothing but she can assume what she wants. I just giggled, but not in a girly giggle way, more like in a “ha-ha” way. I bought my items as she continued to blab away. I bought my things and on my way out she said, “byyyyyyyye!” while doing spirit fingers at me. Weird? Yes. Hilarious? Yes. Was she a lady of the night? Umm… definitely.

Moral of the story: You know you live in a weir neighborhood when you can’t tell the sex of a person… or if they are into hollerin for money.

I would like to say that my dog Delilah discriminates against me. It may be a good form of discrimination though. So Kinsey and Keley went shopping yesterday for what I like to call naughtsome things… that’s a mix between naughty and awesome… anyway, they returned home with their brand new unmentionables. For some reason girls like to try on all of their underwear as soon as they get home and show each other. I did not happen to be home at the time but when I did get home I sat down on the couch. As soon as I sat down I see Delilah come running out of my room as if she had just robbed a bank and a pit bull cop was chasing her down. She crashed into her kennel and growled at me when I opened my mouth. This means one of one thing… Delilah did something very bad and she knows it. Anytime she does something bad she will put herself on timeout. This makes me wonder why she does the bad things in the first place because she obviously knows it’s bad.

Kinsey and Keley were in Keley’s bedroom talking about the economy and quantum physics so I decided to go in the room and look for the “Delilah Damage”. I was expecting to find some pee or perhaps a poo on the rug… heck, maybe even some chewed up toilet paper but I didn’t know if she had enough time. I ended up finding a bunch of brand new panties with the crotch missing… that’s some good lookin out Delilah. Haha.

I decided to conduct my own scientific experiment so I very nonchalantly left a pair of my underwear out to see what Delilah would do. I took her out potty, pulled out the panty particles that got stuck in her butt with a plastic bag, we came back home and I waited… nothing. I went to work and did some business and came back home… nothing. I sat her down and told her it was ok to chew up my chones too… nothing. Apparently Delilah does not want anything to do with my chones, and yes they were clean ones… I think. Now I am very hurt, Kinsey is mad, and Keley is furious. Not a good day in the “Three’s Company 2008 Edition” home.

Moral of the story: I think Delilah is a lesbian dog… or she is really into lace.

WORD!!!!

Translation for the gringos: Chones- underwear… not to be confused with chorizo, which happens to be my favorite dish to sprinkle on a tortilla or some wonderfully scrambled eggs. You do not want to sprinkle chones on your tortilla or eggs.

Ok, funny story time!!!! So I was on my way to the dentist yesterday but I decided to stop at the wonderful gas selling business called a gas station. Guess what?!?!? THEY ACTUALLY HAD GAS THERE!!! As I am standing there trying to look cool/hot one of those “Excuse me… can I talk to you fo a second” guys walked up to me. I had about zero desire to listen because I was in a rush so I decided to do what I do worst: I decided to think fast on my feet. Out of everything I could have done I decided to pretend to be deaf… I know that’s bad… but I really feel bad telling people to go away. As he walked towards me with his Tweedy Bird hat and see thru Night at the Roxbury shirt matched beautifully with some Jorts (jean shorts) I started makings signs to give him a hint. He stepped back and said, “Oh, you can’t hear me?” He then made the money gesture with his hand and pointed at himself while speaking slowly and saying, “Can… I… borrow… some… money?” First of all it is not called borrowing if you are never going to pay it back, but I digress. I acted like I didn’t understand. Maybe he would think I was a non English speaking deaf guy. As he tried over and over to repeat his sentence I wished for my gas to pump faster. To tell you the truth, I though he was going to punch me at any moment. Then out of the blue my phone rang. Yup, the ringer was on sitting right there on the drivers seat. That’s fine and all, but I am pretty sure a deaf person would not notice a noise and look directly at the source of which the noise is coming from.

Luckily the dude didn’t catch that… but then for some reason… I grabbed the stupid phone and silenced it. I couldn’t help it. It was as if my hand was a magnet to the phone. He looked at me in dismay dropped his arms to his sides and said, “Daing, you ain’t even blind…” Oh, did I write down that he “said” that? I meant to say he yelled, “Daing, you ain’t even blind!!!!!!” The dude at the other pump looked over at us and shook his head at me. Then “Can I talk to you fo a minute” guy, also known as CITTYFAM guy, looked at me again and said, “I can’t believe you tried to act like a blind man… you just have to say no and I walk away. You ain’t blind.” I then replied with, “I know… I was supposed to be deaf.” He then started laughing uncontrollably… so then I started laughing, but not for reals, it was more of an awkward laugh because I though he was going to stab me, so I didn’t want him to feel stupid. So after my gas was fully pumped and I listened to him laugh for 3 minutes I bought him a hot dog inside the gas station. He then asked me for a ride to his “baby mamas” house… I declined, but did not act deaf and/or blind this time.

Moral of the Story: Keep your gas tank half full at all times so you don’t have to spend 5 minutes with weird guys at the gas station.

So I am finally off the football induced depression… my team finally won a game this season. Now if they could just do this 13 more times in a row I will be happy. However I would like to write a lil bit about a wonderful thing called “paying attention”. Now, I will say that one thing they did stress while I attended school was “paying attention”, but unfortunately I am not very good at paying attention because too many things catch my eye very easily. Colors, water, stuff, flowers, hair, bright things, shiny things, candy… pretty much everything.

I wish I could have paid attention when it came to purchasing a certain T-shirt. Kinsey got me to come out to the gay pride parade. Now, the parade is actually a lot of fun so I had no problem going. Before making our way to find a spot my friend and I decided to buy some cool Dallas Cowboys shirts because he is a fan. I just thought they looked cool and Tony Romo is a pretty good QB and I am a fan of good QBs like Montana, Young, Elway, Fouts, Marino, J-Si… you know, the greats. So we bought our shirts quickly because we were in a hurry. We put them on and went on our way. About two minutes later I started getting harassed by some gay dude. I am used to this because I happen to live in the area but this time these guys are coming on way too strong. After telling them to stop they walked away. I decided to walk on home because I wasn’t feeling too good about being grabbed three times in .45 seconds so I told Kinsey I was gonna take off. As I walked towards my street the same guy tried to grab my Mexico part of my body. So I said, “Dude, I’m not gay.” Then he, along with his friends, started chanting “*omo wannabe!” I was super weirded out (by the way, did you know weirded is not a word? Nutty), but I figured they were just drunk.

So I get home and take my shirt off and throw it on the bed and head into the bathroom. As I walked out of the bathroom a question popped in my head… Why would they make a Tony Romo shirt with an 08 on it? He wears number 9… maybe it was an MVP shirt or something… then I took a closer look at the name plate on the back of the shirt. The “R” in Romo had magically turned into an “H” somehow. YAY!!!! I walked around with a shirt that said, “*omo 08”. If I would have not been so distracted by the cool looking shirt I would have paid attention to what the back said. When everyone got back from the parade my buddy walked in with his head slumped so I said, “you figured it out huh?” He said yeah, “about 10 minutes ago.” Haha, he walked around with it on for two hours. NICE!!! I didn’t feel so bad after that.

Moral of the Story: I bet Tony Romo was made fun of a lot in High School : )

Well, I have realized that I will most likely never ever have the body of Terrell Owens from the Dallas Cowboys. Why? Because I cant do his simplest workout. I will let you know that this dude has the ideal super ripped up frame that any guy would love to have. Unfortunately I am not a professional athlete and cant work out for 8 hours a day like he can, but I can try to look like a lil bit. So he is coming out with a new workout book and I was doing the “should I buy it” dance in my head. So i decided to go to the wonderful world of youtube and look up one of his workouts. I found that he liked to use those resistance band things to do biceps exercises. I was planning on buying one of those bands but did not have time. Well later in the day Kinsey, Keley Jo, and I headed to Paul’s house for some good old fashioned eating action. Did I eat chicken? Heck yeah, and some delicious mashed potatoes. Anyways, out of the corner of my eye on a chair in his dining room i saw THE BAND!!! No, not Rock Band even though that would be super awesome cause Kidd stole back the Rock Band that I stole from him. Don’t worry though I will get him back for that… and playing the “J-Si is going to be a huge star” trick on me with the Miami producer.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, THE BAND!!!! It was one of those exercise bands that I need to do the T.O. workout. So I picked up the exercise band and decided to do some curls to load up the guns with some huge muscle action. I placed the band under my feet so I could get maximum workout potential and did rep number one, followed by rep number two, and on my way up on rep number three BAM!!!! The band snapped. How freaking strong am I? Well, not very strong… see, what had happened was that yours truly did not secure the band under his feet thus releasing a huge amount of force to hit him in the face. It literally felt like someone had punched me in the face. My eye swelled shut, I had two huge marks on my forehead, and I couldn’t curl up into a ball and clutch my eye like I wanted to because everyone witnessed this catastrophe. SO i sucked it up and pretended it didn’t hurt. I then walked to the bathroom and shut the door and said “AUUUUUCH!!” for about 7 minutes straight. I then had to start thinking of cool black eye stories to tell everyone because I was certainly going to have a black eye. I came up with this: Two women were being attacked by 13 dudes and I jumped in and beat down 12 of them but the 13th one hit me right in the eye, but I took him down and held them all there until the cops showed up. The girls then paid me by buying me some tamales. True story.

The next morning I was ready to be a hero but when I woke up I noticed that the swelling had gone down and all I had was just a slightly pink cheek, or as I like to call it… a pineek. You know what? That would be a great name for some blush products. I will now go work on that. That right there is what will make me rich… and margastraw… and my mechanical dog/beer cooler.

Moral of the story: I can beat up 13 guys at once if I make it up in my mind.

Howdy!!!! I am still trying to recover from my Chargers losing their first game of the season… that’s not good lookin out right there. You know what is some good looking out? People who make you look at life differently. So I have started to notice that all of my friends from back home are slowly dwindling away one by one. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder, it’s true… if you disagree we can have a shin kicking fight and declare a winner through that, I happen to be undefeated though. I guess my friends aren’t really the “lets talk about our day on the phone daily” type.

As I drove home feeling sorry for myself I decided to eat something that makes me happy… Taco Bell!!! As I entered the drive through line the obligatory homeless man asked me if I had money. You know what? I did have money, but I wanted to know what he needed so I asked him what he wanted. He replied with, “I just want to get some food.” I said, “fair enough, how about I park my car and we eat inside the restaurant?” I would rather make sure he was actually going to eat than buy a beer or something else with it. We walked up to the counter and I told him he could get what he wanted, boy did he smell like the streets. The gleam in his eye meant everything though… he reminded me of when I was kid and would get super excited to eat pizza, which was once in a blue moon… I got a burrito, a tostada, and a steak taco. He got a bunch of stuff but I didn’t care because he now had enough for the day. We sat down at a booth and I just started chatting it up with him. I always wondered how people end up homeless. He told me he was from New Orleans and that he had lost everything in Katrina. He said he and his wife weren’t rich but they had a roof over their heads and he worked at a gas station and a convenience store to pay the bills. Unfortunately he lost his wife during the hurricane and after leaving New Orleans he found himself depressed and addicted to drugs and he could not stop. He was practically stripped from the place where he felt comfort.

How many times have we judged a homeless man on the side of the road? I have done it. Granted, this man was homeless because of an addiction, but he lost his wife and his home. We talked for about an hour and I felt that I needed to help him… but I felt helpless. I can buy him food, but I can’t provide shelter. I can give him clothes, but I can’t provide him the comfort his wife gave him. He asked me if by chance I had an extra room… I wish I could give him a room, but I don’t think the girls would be too stoked on that idea. I did tell him that if I saw him again dinner was on me.

I got in my car and all I could say was, “damn.” I am soooo lucky to be where I am. I have always been simple. All I need is a roof over my head and clothes to cover my body. It was nice to step back and realize that I am not as lonely as I was feeling an hour earlier. So I decided to go throw water balloons at rich people while yelling “Homeless power!!!” So if you ever see me at Taco Bell eating with a homeless man don’t try to strangle him while telling me to escape. Go ahead and sit down and get to know a cool dude.

Moral of the story: rich people don’t like water balloons to be thrown at them.

Let me describe what I would perhaps call the worst thing that could happen to a man in one day. First of all, I went to watch the Mama Mia Sing Along… all by myself. Do you know how awkward it is to be a full on woman loving dude and having to ask for one ticket to Mama Mia? I could not find a way to have those words come out of my mouth. So I told the girl working the counter, “Can I get one ticket to the (whispering) Mama Mia?” she replied with, “huh!?!?!?” Again I asked quietly, “one for Mama Mia,” she then screamed, “Oh, you wanna watch the Mama Mia sing along? Yeah, I got you… You just want one?” I just nodded my head. As she handed me my ticket she said, “Enjoy Mama Mia!!!” Did I believe she was mocking me? Yes… If there was no glass between us she would have received a kick to the shin.

Unfortunately my woes did not end there. I walk in the theater expecting a bunch of Broadway loving women ready to be annoyed by my singing for a radio gold bit… Instead I walked into a room with three college chicks and two old ladies. I decided that sitting near the old ladies would give me a better reaction because the young chicks looked like they wouldn’t pay me an attention. So I sat behind the old ladies with my lil recorder on my lap ready to do some singing. After a few seconds I felt that my pants started getting a bit damp. I figured that someone had spilled some water or soda on the seat and that it was no big deal so I changed seats. A couple of minutes later I realized that my pants were now what I like to call too wet for comfort. I got up from my seat and could clearly feel with my hands that it was drenched. So I did the good ‘ol “bend-over-smell-see”. I was convinced that the liquid was soda… but what kind of soda? I was hoping it was sprite because it’s not as sticky as coke… or at least that’s what I like to think. Well, instead of receiving wonderful soda smells a different smell entered my nostrils, it was a smell that I know very well thanks to Delilah… It was the unmistakable smell of what I like to call THE #1. Yup, I sat in pee not once, but twice. If I would have done it again I would have been 3 times a lady. We weren’t even at the first song yet and I was soaked in pee. So I naturally said, “Eww!” What did the ladies behind me do? The said, “shhhhhhh!!!!” At that point I decided that I would walk my pee butt out of there. The theater was very kind and apologized and even gave me my money back along with some passes.

In the parking lot I ran into another dilemma. What do I do to sit in my car? I don’t want pee seats in my car too. So I decided I would take my pants off. I put a gym towel on my seat and shielded myself from Peeping Toms the best I could. I haven’t taken my pants off that fast since High School Prom… haha, jk. So I drove home in my underwear repeating, “why me?” over and over again.

Dilemma number 4: Now that I arrived home I needed a way to get to my apartment. I decided the best solution would be to put pee pants back on and deal with the damp butt again. I tucked my gym towel in the back to cover the water mark and was on my way. When I walked in Keley Jo was sitting on the couch and asked how the movie was and as I walked straight to my room I replied with a, “it was wet.”

Moral of the Story: Keep your gym towel in the car incase you sit in pee at the movies and have to take your pants off and drive home like a perv (if you’re a dude) or like a hottie (if you’re a woman). I also think I sat in R Kelly’s seat at the movies.

Ok, so let’s talk about Kinsey and her injuries suffered in the span of two days. Let’s begin with the “I told you so” accident.

Kinsey and I were having an impromptu BBQ and were down at our apartment complex pool getting ready to grill. Kinsey comes up to me and tells me that she doesn’t know how to turn on the grill, so I tell her to just give it a little kiss and whisper sweet nothings in its ear. She then informed me that it was a woman grill. We then spent 20 minutes arguing about the sex of the grill. Finally after winning the argument I walked over to the grill to show him who’s boss. I determined that the button that sparks the flame was broken… I will name that button the splame button. Kinsey then walked over and said, “Why don’t we just throw a match in there?” I could smell the gas so there was propane in the tank. I told Kinsey that we should just trade out there propane tanks and use the grill that had a splame button that worked because you are not supposed to light propane grills with matches. She would not budge on this argument so I told her that if she was going to do that to do it with the cap closed. Oh, and don’t forget that the gas has been running this whole time. Kinsey carefully lit the match and threw it through a small hole on the side of the cover and then, BOOOOOM!!!! It sounded like a plane had crashed in the middle of our apartment complex. Kinsey came out completely unscathed while my buddy who was standing a few feet away lost the hair on his arm and his beer… but he lost his beer because he was a wuss and dropped it due to the loud boom. I laughed.

Second incident is a bit more serious yet hilari-I at the same time. Kinsey was in an “I want to take cute pictures” mood and decided to hop onto a motorcycle to pose for one. What she didn’t realize is that it was about 105 degrees outside and the motorcycle had been sitting in the hot sun for a while and the pipes are made of metal which happen to be a magnet to heat. Yup, Kinsey has a second degree burn on her right calf. So I asked her what she could have possible been thinking and she replied with, “I wasn’t thinking about getting burned… I was thinking about how cute the picture would look.” Gotta love her : )

PS- If you would like to become a part of Bean & Cheese Burrito Productions here is your chance. I am looking to expand my team of one into a team of three people. I need a dude and a girl (who can sing and rap). You have to be quick and able to write funny songs to popular music. If you are up to it hit me up at JC@kiddlive.com with your:

Alrighty then… So the Friday show was pretty shocking huh? I have held on to this since Friday… I wanted to post it but for some reason I felt weird about writing this. I will say this thought. I had always had this view of divorce being a super negative thing… I’m not going to say that it’s not a good thing, but it doesn’t have the connotation in my mind that it once had. Kidd has shown me that even though it is a very painful experience you can still hold on to that part of your life. I am so happy that there is no animosity between Kidd and Carol. Up until meeting Kidd, I had only heard of these magical couples who somehow remained close and loving towards each other after a divorce… Kidd proved to me that this can actually be a reality. I know both felt pain… heck, I know a lot of people around here felt pain but the fact of the matter is that everything is going to be ok. He is still the same man Kellie and Al have worked with for 13 years… he just happens to like to work… all day… every day.

This has actually helped me in my own life in a good way. I happen to be lucky enough to have a very fun job and sometimes I tend to drown myself into it. What I have to do is find a way to balance Kinsey with work and make it so that neither suffers from it. I would say that for the last 5 years I have immersed myself in this lifestyle. It means a lot of work and little play. I guess that is the reason why I have been able to get as far as I have in such ashort amount of time… and a bunch of luck helped too… and a couple of favors that I am ashamed of, haha just kidding. But in all seriousness, Kinsey and I always have little talks, AKA relationship fights, about spending more time together. Now I know that I have to change something before we drift too far apart. Gotta take it one step at a time I guess… I just said that because that new Jordin Sparks song is on. I am such an ADD dork. I guess what I am trying to say is that Kidd once again impacted my life in a positive way opposed to impacting my life in a negative way like when he made me stand in my Speedo in the studio… a very cold studio.

My new attitude and approach will begin today. My goals are to have dinner with Kinsey every night, go back to having out one on one date night on Fridays, tell her “I love you” even if we are in a fight, and kiss her good night every night… even if I am out of town, I better build a teleport machine.

Everything will be fine… because everything is fine. I just made it up, does that make sense? Cause it did make sense to me : )

Moral of the story: if I invented a teleport machine I would be rich… and it would rock everyone’s face off.